


Consequences

by msdisdain



Series: Consequences [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdisdain/pseuds/msdisdain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakotay's unwilling participation in the Vori's war against the Kradin has changed him. Only time will show how much, or if anyone can help him recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Original Author's Note:_
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer: All characters within this tale belong to the Great and Powerful Wizards of Paramount and Viacom. I have merely taken them over the rainbow for a little while. No pot of gold is being received in exchange for my words._
> 
>  
> 
> _This story is dedicated to the persistent members of JetC10 who kept on me to finish it. It also has the dubious distinction of being the first story posted to that list._

"Chakotay."

He stopped almost immediately, a combination of the surprise in her voice and his innate determination to obey her orders. The look in his eyes, however, told her it would have been better to just have let him go. He stared at her, his disgust evident in his next words:

"I only wish it were as easy to stop hating as it was to start."

She drew back slightly in alarm as he turned and walked off, not trusting himself to say anything else, and then she stood in the corridor for a long uncertain moment as one duty warred with another. In sick bay behind her she had the ambassador who had helped them, who was at the least confused and the worst offended by Chakotay's abrupt departure. Getting farther away from her every second was her recovered first officer, her friend, who had just been through a cruel and vicious ruse and was probably in need of the ship's counselor Voyager didn't have. It was a crunch time of a sort, and she fiercely ordered part of her to be still and made the decision. Pivoting sharply, she strode back into sick bay to apologize. And after the ambassador was gone, she was fully intent on finding out why Neelix had thought it would be a good idea to bring a Kradin in front of Chakotay.

One hour later...

Ambassador Treen had been more than understanding about Chakotay's reaction to him, once the doctor had explained the full implications of what had been done to him. He had left the ship on very good terms, though Janeway had her own doubts about whether or not she had gotten the full story. In the end, though, she decided that having her first officer back was the most important thing, and that it would be better to just see how the next few weeks went with him rather than pursue the story any further. Neelix had apologized several times, insisting that he had no idea Chakotay would react as he did, and only thought to allow the ambassador a few parting words with him. He was so upset by what had happened as a result that Janeway didn't have the heart to take him to task as she would have liked. It would be up to her now to deal with the fallout. As soon as she could extricate herself from the bridge, she headed for his quarters.

*BWEE-DOOP*

She stood outside his door for several minutes after pressing the chime, fully expecting the door to open. Never had it crossed her mind that he might not be in there, or that he might not want to see her.

"Computer, locate Commander Chakotay," she said when the door did not open.

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters."

A moment of hesitation, before she tapped her comm badge.

"Janeway to Chakotay."

Silence. Silence that spoke volumes to her. Silence she refused to heed. 

Before she could change her mind, her hand flew up and she keyed in the override to his privacy lock, stepping inside as the door slid open. She blinked quickly to adjust her eyes to the darkness, for the only light illuminating the room was that which shone in from the corridor and a bare glimmer from the window. The door slid closed behind her and she was plunged into near total darkness.

"I want to be alone. I thought you of all would accept that." His voice came from a direction she could not pinpoint, flat and cold. Unfamiliar tones.

"Then you don't know me very well," she said quietly, standing still in the enveloping darkness. "I thought you would need to talk."

He laughed mirthlessly, and she turned towards the sound. The couch, she thought uncertainly. "No, Captain, I don't need to talk."

"I want to help you, Chakotay," she continued. "The doctor said--"

"The doctor has no idea!" he bit out, and the fury behind his words had her stepping back involuntarily. "You have no idea." A long breath came from him, forced. "You couldn't even imagine."

"Try me."

A long moment passed during which neither said anything, and as she opened her mouth to reiterate her previous statement, he whispered,

"Go away, Kathryn--I can't do this right now. I can't take what you are willing to give me, because it's not enough at this moment. It may be enough tomorrow, but it isn't now."

Janeway closed her eyes against the darkness which was growing blacker with every word he uttered. To pretend she didn't know what he was talking about would be to lie to both of them, and in his present state of mind, she was unwilling to do that. Nor did she think herself capable of giving him what he was silently asking for. Not even now.

"Chakotay, I know that things have been...strained...between us the last few weeks.."

"Kathryn." His voice cut into her statement, hoarse and pained. "I know what you are trying to do, but please...go."

Janeway went.

In the darkness, hands reached for what was not there, and eyes closed over unshed tears.

*

Her feet took her restlessly from deck to deck over the next hour. Startled eyes met hers when she peeked into Engineering; she spent a lonely few minutes in the silent mess hall; she took the turbolift to the bridge but left without entering. She was in the middle of a fourteen hour shift break, and Paris would set his brain working overtime if she appeared on the bridge in the middle of it for no apparent reason. _This is ridiculous_ , she thought to herself as she ordered the lift back to her deck. _Just go to bed_. She ignored the part of her that felt a lingering guilt, and minutes later she was keying her door open and stepping inside. One hand began undoing the fastening on her jacket as the door closed behind her.

"Lights."

She didn't know whether Chakotay's presence on her couch surprised her or not. His eyes met hers across the room, and they were tired, and a little defeated.

"My override code for yours, Commander?"

His gaze dropped to his hands, clenched together in his lap, and he said nothing.

"Would you like tea?" she asked to cover her confusion, for this stoic man before her was one she had not seen for a very long time. At his slight nod, she moved to the replicator and keyed in the order. She willed her hands steady as she carried it over and set it down on the low table, handing him a cup and settling a few feet away from him. She was uncertain what his appearance in her quarters meant, and was reluctant to say anything that might upset him, so she sat drinking tea which she did not taste. His hands, newly scarred, cradled the small cup gently, though he did not raise it to his lips. She glanced at him a few times, but his face was unreadable, and he did not meet her eyes again.

"Hatred is not common among my people," he murmured finally.

"It has never been your way. You are not a killer."

His head jerked up at that, his eyes piercing through her. "That's what Tuvok said. He said I was a scientist, and an explorer."

She nodded, gripping her cup a little tighter. "You are both of those things."

His gaze held hers. "But I have killed in the past--Cardassians, mainly, and a few others...here in the Delta Quadrant. And whether they were real or not, I did kill Kradin down on that sphere, and I didn't think anything was wrong with it. They deserved it. They were beasts...motherless beasts..."

Janeway put her cup down on the table and took his away as well, placing it next to hers. She gripped his hands with both of hers, her nails pressing into his palms. "Chakotay, you know what was done to you on that planet. You were manipulated in the most cruel of ways. They did the near impossible, making you hate anything enough to willingly seek its death."

His hands shook under hers. "I have worked my whole life to put aside feelings like these. And even so, after all this time, I still cannot control my emotions." He stood, pacing around the room, hands clenched in his hair, then at his sides. "I can't believe I allowed myself to be manipulated in that way again."

Both were silent for a long time, remembering the blonde ex-Borg who had last used him--a different situation, but one with lingering results that he obviously hadn't fully reconciled to himself. Janeway struggled to shove thoughts of Riley Frasier aside and concentrate on what he was saying.

"I still hate--I can't turn it off--I can't put it aside. I almost killed Tuvok, Kathryn, and I never would have known it. I don't think I've ever been so grateful for his damn logic in all my life. But even now, after knowing all this, I believe I would still transport down to the surface and join in that war."

"No you wouldn't, Chakotay; I know you better than that. These feelings are overrunning you now, but you will regain control of them." If she could have taken the words back she would have, because she knew as soon as she uttered them that they were a mistake.

She was right.

Chakotay turned to face her, pain etched into every line of his face. "That is what I do best," he snapped. "I am sure I won't disappoint you this time, Captain. You'll just need to give me a few extra days."

Janeway flinched at the words he chose, and a hand reached in and clenched a tight fist around her heart. There was bitterness in his voice that he had hid well from her--bitterness, and abject longing, and lingering pain. That she had caused some of it made it harder to bear, for it had never been her intention to wound. She had buried very deeply the regret that it had become necessary. Every once in awhile, in the shadows of her quarters, she would pull out a small box and gently finger the items inside. A few moments indulgence. And if there were tears on the tomato leaf when she put the box away, she let them be. Perhaps she would also allow herself to imagine that he was doing the same thing on the other side of the wall. And then she would curl up with her regret in a corner of the bed to spend one more night in a dream that had never been finished.

"Chakotay," she finally said, her voice gentle but labored, "I think I should rephrase what I just said. I want you to--"

"It's not necessary. You can change the words but the sentiment will be the same, and in the end, that's all that matters."

"It's not all that matters. I want you to understand."

One large bronzed hand came down on the table hard enough to make the china bounce, and he came surging to his feet.

"Oh I understand, Captain. More than you do, I think. If you'll excuse me, I think this was a mistake." Long strides took him to the door before she realized what he was doing.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice unnatural to her ears.

"To deal with this in the only way open to me," he said, trying to ignore the hurt shading the tones of her voice. When she moved to follow him, he raised a hand up as if to ward her off. Another step forward and he was gone.

Janeway sat back down for lack of anything else to do, her head falling into one hand, and stared blindly out the window.

*

Life went on.

It tends to do that, no matter what the personal situations of those living it. Voyager continued through the Delta Quadrant, problems occurred in Engineering, Neelix served leola root in the mess hall, and Seven of Nine struggled with humanity. Their experiences with the Caatati had left them no worse for wear; Tom and B'Elanna were back safely. All was normal and right--almost. Janeway had come up with several plausible excuses for why Chakotay was suddenly working beta shift rather than side by side with her on alpha, and she thought that the crew had bought into it. It would not do for any of them to know that Chakotay was working beta because he had told her it was the only way he would work. She had found that on a padd on her desk the morning after his return, and a week later, she was still staring at it. Oh, she had put it down, set it aside to eat, to sleep, and to command her ship, but when she entered her ready room, there it was. Concrete proof that Chakotay wanted away from her so much that he couldn't even work on the same shift. Concrete proof that their confrontation over the Borg had combined with his experiences of the prior week to drive a rift between them the size of the Enterprise-D. Concrete proof that the man who had stood beside her through everything, who had become her best friend despite a less than auspicious beginning, was hurting and didn't want her help.

If she just kept working, just put the padd down and kept working, maybe she could get through it. _You are a Starfleet Captain, damn it_ , she told herself. _You have a responsibility to this ship greater than your need to wallow in personal problems_. It was thoughts like these that caused her to square her shoulders and step out to face her crew, head high, chin up, hands on hips. Life went on. Alpha shift continued almost normally, except for the conspicuously empty chair beside her on the bridge.

Janeway reached out for her mug, grimacing at the cold tea that met her lips, and picked up the padd for the fifth time that morning. _You are fixated on this_ , she scolded herself. One hand lifted, prepared to delete the material, as the door chime sounded.

"Come in," she said, letting the padd fall to the desk again.

The door opened, and B'Elanna Torres entered, padd in hand. She stretched her arm over the desk and handed it to Janeway. "The engineering updates you wanted, Captain." She stood rigidly, waiting to be dismissed.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Please sit down."

Her Chief Engineer took the chair reluctantly, she noticed. It had been a few days since she had seen B'Elanna, and it was apparent that something was bothering her. If she knew the half-Klingon at all, it would only be a matter of seconds before she told her what it was.

"Seems like an interesting training project Chakotay is working on." Torres' calm words belied her narrowed eyes. Janeway steepled her fingers together, elbows leaning on her desk as she bent forward slightly.

"Seven is having some adjustment problems. Chakotay volunteered to work with her personally to help her adapt a little better to Starfleet ways."

"Did he?" Torres folded her hands in her lap. "Word around the ship is he was banished to beta shift as some kind of punishment."

Janeway's mouth dropped open slightly, and she quickly closed it again. "I can assure you, Lieutenant, that is not the case. You should know that most shipboard rumors are greatly exaggerated. It was his suggestion, and a good one, so I took him up on it."

Torres nodded slightly, rising from her chair. "Then that's what I will tell people if they ask." She walked towards the door, turning back just before she reached it. "I've been on beta the last two nights, Captain. If Chakotay is happy working the shift, you certainly can't tell."

"Not having a counselor on board is a problem in cases like this," Janeway said, trying to keep her voice light.

"I know. In cases like this, you really need all your friends around you." With that, she was out the door. Janeway leaned back in her chair, feeling as if she had just been slapped, though she knew B'Elanna didn't mean it that way. The Engineer had an incredible affection and respect for her former Maquis captain, and was fiercely protective of him as well. She was reacting to his pain exactly as Janeway would expect her to. Hopefully she would approach him and try to do something about his melancholy, because he had made it more than clear that his captain was not welcome.

Life went on.

*

Lift the fork. Chew. Swallow.

Life had suddenly become a series of small actions, meaningless separately, but if concentrated on and combined, would allow him to go on living without going insane.

Beta shift was quiet, slow compared to alpha. Paris was running the bridge this week, training a handful of precocious ensigns, but Chakotay had chosen to keep to the bowels of the ship. He had spent a few days with Seven of Nine, going over various sections of the Starfleet database with her, before turning her over to Ensign Kim for a joint project in stellar cartography. He had then spent several days reworking duty assignments, holed up in his office. He knew that technically it was time to return to alpha shift, but he didn't think he could walk onto the bridge and pretend that everything was fine.

He also didn't think he could walk onto the bridge and face her, after telling her he couldn't work with her anymore. They hadn't exchanged a word since. He knew that the harmony they had created among the senior staff members would deteriorate rapidly once people started to figure it out. They couldn't afford for that to happen. It had taken over three years to come this far. He would not be responsible for a fraying of the crew. But he could also not be responsible for his actions if he returned to her side. That too was a problem he knew he would have to deal with eventually, but at the moment he couldn't conceive of how he would go about it.

"Mind some company?"

Chakotay's head jerked up from his partially eaten meal to see B'Elanna standing over him, tray in hand.

"Would it matter?"

"It always does," she chided him softly.

Their eyes held for a long moment before he let out a long sigh, and then nodded once. She pulled out the chair across from him and slid into it, setting her meal down with a grimace. She ate silently for a few minutes, watching him rearrange what looked to be most of his dinner several times before she spoke again.

"You should eat that."

"Don't mother me, B'Ela," he snapped.

"You're losing weight, Chakotay. I bet you aren't sleeping, either."

"I didn't realize Kes left her telepathic abilities behind."

"I never knew you to be a man who keeps everything inside--or who says things designed to hurt his friends."

"Maybe you never knew me. And most of my friends know to leave me alone, Lieutenant."

"I'm not most of your friends, Chakotay," she said, ignoring his use of her title. "You can't chase me away like you have everyone else. When are you coming back to alpha shift?"

Chakotay ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "When I'm done on beta. Is this really necessary?"

B'Elanna stared at him, concern and irritation flickering across her face in turn, and then glanced around the mess hall to make sure they were alone. Very few people ate in the middle of beta shift. "Yes, it is. It's been over two weeks now, and you aren't getting any better. In fact, you're getting worse. I want to help." She reached a hand out to touch his, but he snatched it away.

"Then go away. If you want to help, go away."

"If you won't talk to me, talk to Captain Janeway. She will--"

He shoved back from the table, grabbing up his tray and dumping it in the recycler on his way out the door. He almost ran down Paris, who moved out of his way when the commander practically snarled at him.

"I didn't think it was catching," Paris shook his head as he sat down in the chair Chakotay had just vacated.

"What?" B'Elanna asked, still looking towards the door.

"A Klingon temper." When she neither laughed or scowled at him, he leaned forward, a concerned look immediately replacing the smile. "B'Ela, what's the matter?"

She turned back to him, her face sober. "Chakotay."

"What--the beta shift blues?"

She shook her head. "I think there's a lot more to this story, Tom. I don't buy that 'training Seven' story a bit, but the captain insists that Chakotay working beta was his idea and not some kind of punishment."

"What do you think the reason could be if that isn't it?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "I don't know. He hasn't been himself since Tuvok brought him back, but I don't really know what happened to him down on that planet."

Paris reached out and squeezed her hand. "Maybe it's worse than we were told."

"It must be, Tom. It must be." She brought her other hand up to cover his. "And then I mentioned the captain, and he got up and stormed out."

Paris quirked an eyebrow at her. "Really." A grin played about the corners of his mouth. "How interesting."

She lifted her top hand up and smacked his. "Stop thinking with your betting padd, Paris, and start thinking about what we can do to help him."

"Or them."

She nodded. "Or them."

*

_Running...running...the wind at his side, around him, carrying him along as he ran...trees, hills, ground blurred into a long stretch of green as his feet carried him farther and farther away...gasping, he fell to his knees in a small grove...her face appeared in front of him, golden eyes peering at him through golden fur...sorrow seeped into his veins, roaring through his ears, knocking him backwards with the surprise of it...sorrow...his hands reached out for her but she turned and ran so fast he could not catch her...his screams echoed in his ears..._

Chakotay swung himself up from the floor, his medicine bundle falling at his feet unheeded, his heart pounding. He became aware that he was sweating profusely, that his hands were shaking. His eyes darted around his darkened quarters, jerking to the chronometer. _2100 hours? How long was I meditating?_ He dragged his hands through his hair, struggling to regain control of his breathing. _What was that?_ He had never felt those kind of emotions from his spirit guide before--such profound sorrow.

*BWEE-DOOP*

"Come." The word was out, a reflex, before he could take it back. He turned around to face the figure entering his quarters, shoulders heaving, fists clenched, conflicting emotions and visions running through his head. Janeway stood just inside the room, the light from the corridor illuminating her face for a moment before the doors slid shut.

"What do you want?" His voice was unnatural to his own ears, harsh and raspy, his breathing still heavy between the words.

Janeway's concern was immediate, palpable. She took a hesitant step forward, stopped at the narrowing of his eyes. "I came to try and talk to you--are you all right?"

"Fine." He turned away, staring blindly at the wall, fighting down the rage at her intrusion, the confusion over his spirit guide, willing his heart to slow before he lost control completely.

"Commander, if you continue to lie to me and refuse help with what is obviously a pressing problem for you, I will have to remove you from duty."

In a sudden fury, his hand reached up, snatching the rank bar from his collar and hurling it to the floor between them. "My resignation, Captain. Get out."

Janeway's anger matched his almost immediately. "Not accepted, Commander. You have a duty to this ship and to our people. I expect that you get the help you need and pull yourself together before your personal problems destroy what we have built here." _What are you talking about, Kathryn?_ she asked herself silently. _The crew, or the two of you?_ As she saw his fists clenching and unclenching, she thought she may have gone too far--but she did not fear for her safety while with Chakotay. She felt that no loss of control on his part would cause her harm deliberately. She held her ground. He whirled to face her, face dangerously hard in the shadows. "We have built nothing, Captain. One of us did the building, the other the dismantling. I am just finishing what you began."

"What? What are you talking about? I want to help you, I am trying to help you."

"The Commander does not need the help of the Captain. Gods, give me space to think and heal; why won't you let me do this?"

"Whatever you are doing, it's not working. I'm worried about you." Her voice was shaking, and she sternly ordered it to stop as she stepped closer to him. "I'm not here as the Captain, Chakotay. I'm here to help my friend."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Are you. How fascinating. I thought you were alone out here."

She drew back, his words stinging her heart. She had never seen cruelty from him before. It was unnatural, and it hurt more than she thought it would to have her words thrown back at her. "I'm sorry I said that. It wasn't fair to you."

"Well, I'm used to it now, I suppose. I don't want the help you are offering, Kathryn." Her name became a word meant to wound as he stabbed it into her with his voice. "I thought I had explained that the first time."

Janeway shook her head slightly, not really comprehending his meaning. "I don't understand any better now than I did then. Chakotay, please--" She reached out a hand and laid it on his arm gently, feeling his muscle leap beneath her touch. "I can't help you unless you tell me all of what happened, and what you need."

His eyes darkened, a shudder running through his body. "What I need?" Another laugh escaped from his lips, harsh and a little wild. She had only seconds of warning before he gripped her arms with his hands and comprehension set in.

Chakotay tightened his hands on her arms and took two long steps forward, forcing her to step backwards clumsily before she banged into the wall. Her mouth opened in anger, a small cry of pain escaped her lips right before his mouth came down bruisingly hard on hers.

It was less a kiss than a punishment, and hardly the way one wanted their first kiss with anyone to be. Janeway struggled in his grip, outraged, embarrassed, hurt, furious--and then, as his lips softened slightly, aroused despite her best efforts not to be. Chakotay's mouth moved across hers almost hypnotically, his hands massaging small circles on her arms without loosening their hold on her, and she found herself responding to him quickly. The moment he felt her begin to return the kiss, he released his hold on her arms, moving his hands up her sides. His pelvis was pressed into hers, his erection straining towards her as the kiss deepened further still. Her hands came up to his face, and then tangled painfully in his hair as he found the fastening of her jacket and quickly undid it, slipping his hands inside and brushing his thumbs across her nipples.

Janeway gasped, her hands moving down to his chest, and she shoved at him with all her strength. He fell back from her, their mouths separated, hands came down, and her fingers flew up and refastened her jacket. She stared at him unbelievably for a long moment, tears stinging her eyes, his kiss stinging her lips, and betrayal seeping through her. A pain rose up from within her, a great, horrible pain that came up from her belly and manifested itself in her voice.

"You bastard," she rasped. "Resignation accepted, Chakotay. If you come anywhere near me, the bridge, or my quarters, I'll have you sleeping in the brig for seventy years!" A sob bubbled up, threatened to explode from her. "I trusted you--I tried to--" A hand flew up to her mouth, trying to stem the nausea that surged through her, and she turned and fled his quarters.

Chakotay fell to the floor, hands clapped over his mouth, horror filling his mind, sorrow crashing over him, regret soaring through him, self-loathing rearing its ugly head before him. What had he done?


	2. Chapter 2

"Good evening, Captain."

Janeway nodded at Tuvok and the rest of her senior officers as she entered the briefing room, walking quickly to her customary chair at the head of the table. The chair to her immediate left was conspicuously empty, a fact she knew the others were well aware of. She took a deep breath, willing her body to relax, and folded her hands on the table before her as she waited for Paris to stop yawning.

"I called this meeting to inform you of a change in our senior staff before I announce it to the crew at large. Effective immediately, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok will assume the duties of the first officer. I have accepted Commander Chakotay's resignation."

If she had announced that she was planning on allowing Seven of Nine to assimilate the entire crew into a new Borg collective, she couldn't have shocked them any more. Tuvok, who had been informed of the change earlier, was the only one who showed no reaction whatsoever. Harry Kim's mouth dropped open. Paris opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again, shaking his head in disbelief. All the color drained from B'Elanna's face, and her hands gripped the arms of her chair tightly. She was the first to react verbally.

"Chakotay's what? What the hell is going on?"

"Lieutenant." The steel in Janeway's voice was enough to snap the entire group back to attention. "Chakotay's reasons for resigning are personal, and if you feel a desire to know them, I suggest you ask him. He will be reassigned in a civilian capacity once a suitable position can be determined. I don't intend to inform the rest of the crew until tomorrow, so I would appreciate your absolute discretion, have I made myself clear?" Her gaze pinned each in turn, but no one said anything. "Dismissed. Tuvok, you have the bridge. I'll see the rest of you at 0600."

B'Elanna, Tom and Harry left quickly, each looking a little shell-shocked, and Janeway met the eyes of her new first officer.

"Captain, are you feeling well?"

"As well as can be expected, Tuvok. I'm sure the crew will adjust in time."

Tuvok steepled the tips of his fingers together. "Commander Chakotay is highly respected amongst the crew. I am not certain that his resignation is healthy for morale, particularly that of the former Maquis."

Janeway looked away to stare out the viewport. "It was his choice. His decision."

_...his hands roamed over her body...her back was pressed against the wall...her senses slammed into her like waves against the rocks..._

"Captain?"

Her head jerked back in his direction to see something resembling concern--as close as a Vulcan ever expressed physically--shadowing his face. She raised her hand slightly. "I'm fine, my friend. I'll need your help to make this a smooth transition for everyone."

"You will have it, in every area." He stood and headed towards the door, turning back just before it opened. "Please contact me if you have the need to talk about what happened tonight."

After he had gone, Janeway engaged the privacy lock on the door and leaned far back in her chair. Her hand drifted up to her mouth as she fought down another wave of nausea thinking about what had happened just hours before. The first officer that she had trusted--that she had cherished, even, as a dear friend--had changed so completely, so quickly. She didn't recognize the man who had used words to wound her, who had turned a caress into a painful error, who had picked up the pieces of their precariously balanced relationship and hurled them into space. He had asked for something she could not give, and then he had taken it. She couldn't forgive it; she could barely deal with it on a rational level. Part of her wanted to overturn the table; part of her wanted to dissolve into a weeping mass; part of her wanted to eject him from the shuttle bay; part of wanted to take his rank bar, go to his quarters, and wage a private war until they were both healed.

Perhaps they had gone too far for that now. He had taken the hatred that had been born in him on that alien planet and embraced it so tightly she wasn't sure if he could see the end of it. All of his old feelings about the Cardassians seemed to be reborn with a new focus, taking the Chakotay she had known and twisting him into an angry shadow of the noble and courageous man who had stood beside her for the last three years. This went far beyond the "angry warrior," and this time, she had been unable to help him find peace. _Unable, Kathryn, or unwilling?_ The thought rose unbidden to the fringes of her mind.

Just how far did her responsibility to the crew extend? How far into personal feelings was she supposed to delve? How often should she weigh the well-being of her people against the cost to herself? Chakotay hadn't even reached out to her because he knew she would--or could--not give what he needed. But which was more unfair: his asking, or her refusing? And what exactly was he asking from her?

_You know the answer to that._

A vision crept into her consciousness, of two hands clasped over a table, and a tender confession hidden behind the words of a fabricated legend.

He had asked it of her then, and had let it be. She had thought she had answered him, but realized that she never really had. And over and over, she had given him signs to believe that the answer might someday be "yes" instead of "no." She marveled at her boldness before they had encountered the Borg.

_Three years ago I didn't even know your name. Now I can't imagine a day without you._

She said things like that to him, and then accused him of betrayal and abandonment when he disagreed with her. She used emotional blackmail to get him to go along with her, and when his beliefs and convictions caused him to go against her, she was not understanding. Where in Starfleet regulations were those tactics listed as acceptable command behavior? Where did it give her permission to use her first officer's feelings to her advantage? And, most importantly, when had she changed enough to allow it to happen without being horrified at her own behavior?

She was conscious of a prejudice she held when it came to Chakotay. It manifested itself in different ways. When she had first become aware of it, her reaction was to draw back, to defer to Tuvok rather than to him, to imply a mistrust, to leave him out of the "inner circle." After New Earth, surprisingly, she had treated him more as an equal; perhaps that was in compensation for what she could not give him even then. After those terrifying days when they feared that the Vori had killed him, she had realized that his death would harm her in more ways that she ever cared to imagine. Tuvok's suggestion that he may not have survived the shuttle crash had enraged her. If they had found him dead, would she have been able to go on?

_Yes,_ she concluded. She would have gone on, for the sake of the crew and their journey toward home. She would have straightened her shoulders, picked up her crew, and resumed the journey. But she would never be the same, and a part of her would remain with him. Always.

When, she wondered, had he become more a part of her than a part of her life?

And what was she going to do about it now?

Her thoughts returned to their last encounter, the memory of his mouth on hers returning suddenly. Her stomach clenched into a knot as she admitted to herself that for just a few seconds, she had been incredibly aroused. She had thrust her hands into his hair to hold him closer to her. And then reality had sunk in, passion turned to outraged pain in the space of a breath. She had pushed him away, as she had been for a year. Now not only had she lost her friend, she had lost her first officer.

Slowly she pushed back from the table, shoulders automatically straightening into command stance, chin lifting slightly. Picking up a discarded padd, she strode out the door to the bridge. Perhaps she would take the duty shift after all. She couldn't chance going to her quarters, with him so close by. The wall that separated them would not be enough in this situation. On the bridge she could retain control until her thoughts were no longer a tangled mess. Besides, if she knew B'Elanna, Chakotay was not alone at the moment.

*

"Torres to Chakotay." A few impatient seconds passed. "Torres to Chakotay." She raised up a hand and pounded on his door. "Chakotay, I know you're in there. I'll transport in if I have to." She folded her arms, glaring at the closed doors, and slapped her comm badge a third time. "Torres to Engineering. I need a--" The door slid open. "Belay that, Engineering. Torres out." She stepped through the opening quickly before it could shut again.

"Can't you take a hint, B'Ela?"

"Could I ever? Chakotay, what the hell is this about you--" B'Elanna stopped in the middle of the room, staring at him. He was sitting at the table before the replicator, cradling his head in his hands, and the look on his face could only be described as one of total despair. And most unsettling of all, his Starfleet uniform was folded on the table before him and he was once again wearing Maquis clothing. "Chakotay, what's the matter?" She crossed the room quickly, pulling up a chair next to him. "What happened?"

He raised his eyes to hers, and she saw unshed tears glittering within the onyx depths. She drew in a breath slowly--she had never, in all their years together, seen him upset like this. What the hell went on? "Chakotay?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, B'Ela."

B'Elanna fought down her normal waves of impatience at his resistance. This man had put himself and his reputation on the line for her time and again, and he deserved nothing less than the best she could give him right now. Gently she reached out and pulled his hands down, taking them in her own. "Chakotay. Please. Why did you resign your commission?"

He looked down at their joined hands for a long moment, finally expelling his breath on a long sigh. "I am not fit for duty, and after what's happened, I shouldn't be anywhere near the Captain. It's better this way."

"Better how? With Tuvok in your chair, and in your place at Janeway's side?"

His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. "I have no place at Janeway's side. Tuvok is just returning to what was always his."

"This doesn't sound like you. I don't know completely what happened to you down there on that planet, but I know that you are different now. Very different."

Chakotay pulled free of her grasp and stood up, pacing restlessly around the room. "Let's see--I was manipulated again for someone else's purposes. I was made to believe in a cause that had nothing to do with me, to get involved in someone else's war. Then I find out nearly everything was fabricated, that really the only true thing was the hate. And now I can't get rid of it. It's like I'm back fighting the Cardassians--I thought these feelings were safely in the Alpha Quadrant. I can't let go of it."

"What did you do?" B'Elanna asked, her voice full of quiet concern.

He crossed to the viewport, staring out blindly, arms crossed protectively on his chest. "I--can't tell you completely. Not because I don't trust you, B'Ela, you know I do. You should know, anyway."

"I know."

"It was personal, between the Captain and I. I--don't want anyone to know." He ran his hands across his face and through his hair, dragging them down the back of his neck. "I'm ashamed, B'Ela," he whispered. "I don't know who I am anymore."

You are Commander Chakotay of the Starship Voyager. You are a scientist, an explorer. You are not a killer.

B'Elanna got up, crossed the room, led him to the couch. Sat down beside him. Took his hands again. "Chakotay, you can tell me as much or as little as you want."

He gripped her hands, hard, and then relaxed a little as he met her eyes. The half-Klingon looked back at him, her eyes straightforward, honest. He knew that she would lay her life down if he asked. He would do the same for her. It was a loyalty that had been forged years before, a friendship that had been born out of tragedy and strife. He knew that she would listen to him, and not judge. Perhaps he could tell her. A deep breath, and he could tell her.

"She has been trying to talk to me for days," he began quietly. "I wouldn't listen to her, wouldn't talk to her. Didn't want her friendly concern. I pushed her away, more than once. I--"

She squeezed his hands again, offering support. She knew why he had rejected the help, although he didn't realize she knew it. "Go on. It's okay."

He nodded. Perhaps it would be. "I asked to be moved to beta shift so I wouldn't feel her eyes on me. So I wouldn't have to hear the unspoken questions, or deal with the answers I couldn't give."

"I talked to her about that."

He jerked a little, surprised. "You did?"

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. "I thought you were on beta as some kind of punishment. I wanted to make sure it wasn't true."

His mouth moved a little in answer to her half-smile. "My hero." His face quickly sobered again. "It was a good way to avoid her, to avoid the problems...it gave me extra time in the day to try and deal with the afteraffects as best as I could. But I couldn't meditate, I couldn't find my spirit guide. I tried program after program on the holodeck. The nightmares were...formidable." He breathed in shakily, shoulders heaving once. "She came here again yesterday between shifts. Right after I left you in the mess hall. I didn't want to listen to her, didn't want what she offered. Wanted what she wouldn't--couldn't--give me. So I...I..." He closed his eyes tightly, his hands clasping hers almost painfully. "I tried to take it."

His eyes opened, meeting hers. He saw the shock within them. "No, B'Ela, not that. I could never do that, to her, to anyone. But I hurt her. Not physically. I hurt her." His eyes closed again, trying to shut it out. "I hurt her. I vowed to protect her, to support her, and when she tried to do the same for me, I hurt her. I'll never forget the look in her eyes."

B'Elanna stared at him, her head spinning. Chakotay sat before her, broken, his eyes closed tightly, his hands wrapped around hers. The Vori really did a number on him, she thought. For him to do anything to Janeway that would hurt her, that would make her accept his resigning his commission, they must have taken him far beyond his usual self. She didn't know what to say or do to make it right for him. She slid forward a little, released his hands, and pulled him to her. She held him, for a long moment. "Thank you for telling me." She leaned back a little so she could look at him. "Now you have to tell her."

Chakotay shook his head. "She told me not to come near her. She doesn't want to talk to me." He sighed, a little of the tension and wildness fading from his eyes. "I just have to ask Tuvok for some kind of civilian assignment, far, far from the bridge."

"That's ridiculous. No one on board this ship wants you to take a civilian assignment, not even Tuvok. I can't believe you are just giving up."

"Sometimes it's better to just let the rabbit run, B'Ela."

She snorted. "This is no time for one of your obscure Indian references, Chakotay. Come on." She stood up, pulling him with her.

"Where are we going?"

"To work out some of this hatred you say you can't let go of--although it seems to be pretty self-directed now. And then we'll talk about the Captain."

"No, we won't."

"We'll argue about that again later."


	3. Chapter 3

Night on Voyager, though indistinguishable physically from the day, was nevertheless a silent time. Nonessential personnel slept while a much smaller shift kept the ship running smoothly. This was when Janeway usually slept. Not tonight, though. There would be no sleep for her this night. She walked the decks restlessly as she had several nights before: the first time she had tried to talk to Chakotay. The fist in her stomach clenched. She walked on, deeper into the bowels of the ship, arms folded across her chest, head bowed slightly. Voyager. Her ship--her home. She felt protected within its walls, she thought, reaching out a hand to trail along the bulkhead as she walked. She thought about retreating to Maestro Da Vinci's workshop, but didn't want to explain her present mood to him. Her feet took her towards the observation lounge, and as she rounded the corner, she smacked straight into Tuvok.

"Excuse me, Tuvok," she said, shaking her head. "I was a little distracted."

"That is to be expected, Captain. This is, however, precipitous. I was coming to meet you."

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes, Captain. I must decline your offer to become the first officer of Voyager."

Janeway looked at him, stunned. "Why is that?"

"I can not accept knowing there is someone more suited to the position than I. I believe that to give me that title will not improve matters on this ship."

"Tuvok..."

"Captain, you have always been someone who sets aside personal matters in favor of professional problems. In most cases, I would agree that your course of logic is prudent. However, in this situation, I believe it would be in the best interest of the crew, as well as your own, to resolve your problems with the Commander and restore his rank to him."

Janeway was speechless. Tuvok had never been Chakotay's defender; they had never been friends. As if he could read her mind, he went on, "I have developed a great respect for the Commander over the years, although I confess it was not always so. I have never had ambition for his chair on the bridge, and would prefer not to assume it now. I urge you to resolve these differences, for the good of the mission." He looked at her for a long moment, and then nodded briefly. "Good night, Captain."

She stared after him for a long moment before turning and heading into the lounge. _Star viewing will help me think,_ she thought. The doors opened before her, and as she stepped inside she heard low voices and a woman's laughter.

In chairs set before the viewport, Chakotay and B'Elanna sat. Chakotay was wearing what she recognized as his old Maquis uniform, and B'Elanna lounged in what was apparently her exercise clothes. He was telling her something, pointing out the window, and she was laughing. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of Janeway as she entered, and gestured her over.

"Insomnia, Captain?"

Janeway could see Chakotay stiffen immediately at B'Elanna's words, but she forced herself to cross the room anyway. "Just a bit of wandering, Lieutenant."

An uncomfortable silence stretched over a minute or so, as all three stared out at the stars. Janeway watched B'Elanna reach out, touch Chakotay's arm, and stand up. "If you'll both excuse me," she said, "I'm a little tired. I can only kill so many holocreatures in one night without collapsing. Good night, Captain, Co--Chakotay." Without looking at either again, she was gone.

Janeway was frozen where she stood, wanting to leave, wanting to stay. Wanting to scream. Chakotay stood up, still not facing her.

"Computer, engage privacy lock. Do not disengage without my authorization. Chakotay omega four one nine."

She knew that her voice codes would override his, but that didn't stop the fist from clenching in her stomach.

"What I did was unforgivable," he started with no preamble. He was calmer, she noticed; a little of his former peace had returned to him. She wondered what B'Elanna had said to him, and what they had spent the evening doing. "I can't expect you to excuse it," he was continuing. "I hurt you, and I will carry that regret with me always." He ran an impatient hand through his hair. "We had built a house of trust here, Kathryn, you and I; we have been knocking it down since our encounter with the Borg. Yesterday I finally leveled it. I will always be sorry."

Janeway stared at his back, watching tension ripple across his shoulders. "We have hurt each other, Chakotay. We haven't been acting like the captain and the first officer, not really."

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"I have been--using our friendship--and the way you feel about me--against you for a long time. Using it to get you to go along with my decisions."

"I would have done that anyway. I told you that."

"I know. But the reality is, I did it--and that combined with...with.."

"Last night." Two words evoked more than either wanted to remember.

"Last night." She took a step forward, stopped as he spoke again.

"There are no words, Kathryn."

"I have three, Chakotay: I forgive you."

He closed his eyes, willed his heart to continue beating. Turned, slowly, to face her. Read the truth in her face. "What?"

She knew he had heard her. She understood his need to hear it again. "I forgive you. We have wounded and been wounded. There is a time for it to end, and I think we have reached it."

Chakotay stepped out from behind the chair, closed half the distance between them. "Kathryn, anything that has happened to me today, I caused."

Janeway let out an exasperated sigh. "Stop beating yourself up over it, Chakotay. Please. I won't allow you to absorb all the blame; enough has happened to you in the last week."

They stared at each other, and suddenly a laugh burst from Chakotay's chest. Janeway raised an eyebrow, but after a moment, let out a laugh of her own. "Shall we go to the holodeck and replicate a couple of hair shirts, Commander?"

The use of his former title sobered them both. "Please give Tuvok my congratulations," he said quietly.

"He turned it down." He stared at her in disbelief, and she related the conversation she and the Vulcan had just had.

"He is a noble man," Chakotay said.

"I know."

Slowly, he raised one large hand towards her, palm up. Carefully, she stepped forward and placed hers on top of it. They stood that way a long time, each taking strength from the other. Then, gently, he pulled on her fingers, just a little. Without thought, she closed the rest of the distance between them, sliding her arms around his waist as his closed around her back. Together they stood for a long while, giving and recieving comfort, every breath an apology. Finally he moved, brushing his lips over her forehead, her cheeks. She opened her eyes, staring up at him as he rested his forehead against hers, a question in his eyes. In answer, she tilted her head slightly, and his mouth met hers.

_So gentle,_ she thought. His lips moved over hers softly, almost reverently. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as his hands came up and gently took down her hair--an action that suddenly made sense of many unidentifiable looks over the years. She stood there with her arms clasped around him as he worshiped her mouth, and a moan registered in the back of her throat at the first tentative touch of his tongue. Her hands curved around his neck and she pressed forward to deepen the kiss, touching her tongue to his and feeling his body shudder.

Several minutes later they separated, each a little breathless, Janeway burying her face in his chest with her head tucked under Chakotay's chin. "That's how I always imagined it," she admitted softly, and then would have given anything to take it back when his body jerked in response. "Chakotay, I--"

"Ssh." He swung her up and into his arms effortlessly, carrying her over to the couch and placing her at the end. He waited for her to settle comfortably, curled up at one end, before he lowered himself next to her. "I would give anything if I could take that back, Kathryn."

"I know you would."

He clasped his hands in his lap, shoulders lifting in a silent sigh. "I've imagined kissing you too--probably more than you have," he said, smiling a little. "My imagination never quite painted a picture like last night. I can't take it back, I can only try to make up for it. But there is still a lot of wrong between us, and we need to fix it before we can move on."

Janeway nodded. "I agree," she said, one hand reaching up and removing the pips from her collar. At his quizzical look, she said, "This conversation is between Kathryn and Chakotay." She put the pips in his hand and closed his fingers over them. "Equal footing."

"Equal footing." Chakotay shifted around and laid the pips on the table next to them.

Janeway tucked her feet beneath her, glancing for a moment at the symbol of her rank, so rarely set aside for any reason. Chakotay followed her eyes and nodded knowingly. "It's hard to separate the two," he acknowledged. "I don't even know if you can anymore--or if you should. 'Captain' has become a part of 'Kathryn', and I'll admit it's the part I know best."

"Yet you set it aside when you came on as my first officer," she murmured. "I asked, and you agreed."

"It was right. Did you expect me to try and lead a Maquis mutiny?"

"No, but Tuvok did," she said, her mouth stretching into a wry grin.

He smiled a little in response, and then his face turned serious again. "B'Elanna and I spent a few hours killing faceless holocreatures," he said lightly. Her eyebrows lifted a little in surprise. "I was skeptical too, but B'Elanna knows me pretty well. It was the final step in the healing, I think. A little unconventional, but it seems to have worked. Now I am just left with confusion over the Kradin and Vori, but they are questions I don't want answered. I think it's just better to let it go." And quietly, he told her the whole story, from Namin to Karya, from the trunks to Lahanna Settlement. Her eyes were closed by the time he got to Tuvok's rescue effort as the full weight of the manipulation he had suffered settled over her. When he finally stopped speaking, she opened her eyes to his again. The tension had left his neck, and his hands relaxed a little more comfortably in his lap.

"I'm sorry," she said simply, reaching out and touching his hand. He clasped her fingers within his own and they sat that way for several minutes, his story washing them both a little cleaner. "We need to talk about last night," she finally said.

"I know."

"Kath--"

"Chak--"

They smiled at each other. "Go ahead," she said.

His thumb rubbed absently over her fingers. "I have no excuses to offer you, Kathryn; nothing would change what I did. I am ashamed of it, and embarrassed, and regretful. But none of that changes what happened."

"Chakotay, I understand why it happened. I am not fond of the tactic, but I understand. I know you would never hurt me deliberately." She took a deep breath, letting it out with a catch. "You scared me. I have never seen that side of you before; I certainly didn't expect it to happen that way. But I meant what I said: I forgive you. I don't see the Chakotay of yesterday in the man sitting before me now, and I don't think I'll see him again."

"I wish I could forgive myself as easily."

Janeway looked at him for a long moment. Made a small decision.

"Come here," she said, stretching her legs and her arms out towards him. There was a long pause where neither breathed as her words settled over him. Carefully, he moved forward, turned around, leaned back against her. She settled his head on her chest, leaned back a little farther, and clasped his hands with hers. His face rested on her arm and their legs were intertwined on the couch. Her chin was in his hair, his breath on her arm. "Don't forget it. It is an ugly moment in our lives, but it's not the first, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Seventy years is a long time to be with anyone, especially in deep space. It's never been completely smooth sailing, and I don't expect it to be now." He didn't say anything, unsure of where she was heading. She cleared her throat quietly and went on, "I'm sorry I didn't wait to announce your resignation to the officers," she said. "It was impulsive and emotional and very non-Captain like to allow any of that to happen. I intend to rectify it before any of the other crew find out--if you want your rank bar back."

"I told you I would go with you, Kathryn, and share your burden. I meant it then. I still mean it."

A vision popped into her head, of Chakotay on the bridge in the same clothing, grabbing B'Elanna and keeping her away as Janeway ensured their stay in the Delta Quadrant by destroying the Array. 'She's the Captain,' he had said. He had never gone back on that alliance.

"I'm sorry I chased B'Elanna out of here," she said unexpectedly, and was answered with a soft chuckle. "What?"

"I don't think B'Ela was sorry to go," he replied. "I think a certain conn officer was waiting for her."

"Tom? Are they--" She felt him nod.

"When they were stranded in space, apparently they--shared some feelings. Well, she did."

Janeway shook her head, stunned. "What did she say?"

"She told him she loved him."

"What did he say?"

"Paris' exceptionally wise choice of words was 'You picked a great time to tell me'."

Janeway laughed out loud, and the sound warmed him through. "Oh, poor Tom. She must have had a field day with that one." She smiled, thinking of the ferocious, loyal, insecure Chief Engineer and the brash, egotistical, steadfast Lieutenant. "I hope it works out for them."

"That's what she said to me," Chakotay said without thinking, and then spent a few moments trying to pry the boot out of his mouth.

Janeway sat frozen for several moments, unsure of how to respond. Her feelings were in a tumble, and she neither wanted to push him away or pull him too close. Yet. "I hear the last pool had 2-1 odds in our favor," she finally said.

He expelled the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. "I wonder if Paris is going to clean up," he murmured tentatively. Her hands tightened on his.

"Perhaps, eventually," she said simply.

They sat that way for a long while before Chakotay shifted his weight, swinging his legs to the floor and standing to assist her up. She stood before him and he wrapped her in his embrace, nestling a kiss on her mouth and pressing his nose in her hair. He then stepped back as she replaced the pips on her collar and the clip to her hair, patiently waiting and watching. When she was finished, she straightened, a little of the command stance returning to her body. He just stood there, waiting for her to take the lead.

"Commander, I've been working on some clay sculpture in Maestro Leonardo's workshop. It's been interesting work...but I could use a model." At his silent nod, she said, "We could use the time away from everything, to talk--and to see about that betting pool."

His smile broke over her like sunrise over the ocean, and she chuckled. "Chakotay, you could start wars with those dimples." They stood there grinning at each other, and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

"Come on, Kathryn. I'll walk you home."


End file.
